


One Life, One Decision

by katekate94



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU, Clexa, F/F, The 100 - Freeform, clarke/lexa - Freeform, clexa au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-30 05:11:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3924127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katekate94/pseuds/katekate94
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So you see, sometimes, just sometimes, good things do happen to good people.<br/>Clexa AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

One Life, One Decision

So you see, sometimes, just sometimes, good things do happen to good people.

 

This time, it really wasn't my fault. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. No one could have predicted a Semi would flip over the median barrier and sweep out 4 cars in its path. No one could have predicted that out of all the cars driving southbound at 7 o’clock at night, the car I was traveling in would be the first to get hit.  
Two dead. Seven injured. I was lucky to be alive. Barely.  
I still wasn't able to open my eyes, my face was swollen from the impact to the dashboard before my airbag could even deploy. A steel rod, one of many, which the Semi was carrying, went through my shoulder. I could hear the doctors talking about it, saying if it were two inches to the right more, I would be dead.  
The way I was feeling right now, I would hardly call it lucky. Nothing hurt, the pain medications kept me pretty doped up most of the day. While nothing hurt, I couldn't feel a damn thing.  
I still hadn't heard any news on how my dad or best friend was doing, or on anyone involved in the accident and lived was doing.  
In the hospital I was flown to, they had me set up in a room with another girl from the accident. I could hear her sister, or mother, I don’t know which, reading to her, and her soothing voice calmed me down as well, but I don’t think she knew I was awake or listening. The other girl never said a word, I’m not entirely sure she was even awake at this point, or still in an induced coma like they had me in for the first four days.  
My mom would stop by every few hours. She was a doctor at this hospital, and in charge of all the patients of the pile up. I hadn't spoken to her yet, but from what I could tell, she was beat up about everything that happened. When she talked to me, she never said anything about my dad or best friend. She would just hold my hand and whisper how thankful she was that I was still alive, her voice breaking even in that hushed tone.  
I don’t know which is worse: the fact that it’s been six days now and I still can’t move, or how no one has even come to visit me aside from my mom.

By the 10th day I was finally awake and stable enough to be pushed around in a wheelchair. No one was talking about who survived and who had passed, and I was getting angry. The only person I’ve seen from the crash was the girl I was rooming with.  
Despite her being involved in a 5 vehicle pile-up, she was without a doubt the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. She was finally awake and talking now with her sister, I was correct in my previous assumption. Every now and then, I would catch her glance over at me and the eye-contact sent shivers down my spine. I have never seen a green as vast and deep as hers, almost like they were mirroring the most expanse forest you could imagine. Unfortunately for me, every time I got a glance into her eyes, the most horrible pickup line would echo in my head. “Your eyes are green like the forest and baby I’m lost out camping.” I’ve had to bite my tongue occasionally to stop myself from saying that out-loud, these pain medications were still making me feel a bit loopy.  
When her sister left, we were alone for what seemed like millionth time. But, like usual, we didn’t utter a word to each other. I glanced over at her, and she was already staring at me. I smiled briefly, unsure if I should be the one to start a conversation, or just stay silent.  
I opened my mouth to say hello when there was a knock at the door.  
My mom came back from one of her rotations carrying my childhood stuffed dog. She handed Smokey to me silently and took a seat in the chair to the left of my hospital bed. Without a word she grabbed my hand and took a ragged breath.  
“Clarke,” tears spilled down her face and her voiced cracked. “Your father’s funeral is tomorrow.”  
I couldn't breathe. No one had told me he was one of the fatalities in the accident.  
12 days had come and passed since that unfortunate day. 12 fucking days had passed without a hint of news that my father was killed.  
My body wouldn't allow me to cry. All I could do was stare blankly into my mother’s watery eyes. I knew I hadn’t misheard her, but I didn’t know how to react.

Let me know what you guys think!


	2. And So It Begins

The funeral went as to be expected.

Cliche rain? Check.

Tons of Flowers? Check.

So many tears it could flood? Check.

 

Though, I could't tell whether the tears were from the sadness or allergies from the flowers everyone brought. As much as I love flowers, I don't quite understand why people bring so many. What do they expect my mother and I to do with them all once the funeral is over? I still have half a hospital room full of them, too.

The Blake siblings showed up. Octavia and Bellamy. My childhood friends. I wasn't expecting to see them there, we had a falling out a couple years back when my family and I moved halfway across the country to Houston, Texas.

Wells was there too, but his father Thelonious was no where to be seen. Not that I cared. The guy was a prick anyways, got my father fired from his job for simply wanting to progress to management before him.

Raven, who was in the accident with me, wasn't able to get a day pass. She got banged up pretty badly. I really could have used her here during the viewing and burial. I only held my mother's hand for her own support.

"Clarke." My mothers voice brought me back to reality. I was being wheeled down the hospital hallway back towards my room. My "freedom", they called it, only lasted 4 hours. I wouldn't call it freedom. My father was just buried right before my eyes. 44 is an awfully young age to die, leaving your 20 year old kid to face the world on her own. 

I didn't answer my mother. I just nodded my head to let her know I was listening. My mouth wouldn't formulate my words correctly. I could process them in my brain, but when it came to speaking them, it was like trying to speak a foreign language you'd never heard of before.

"We're back." She sighed as she wheeled me into my room. We passed my roommate's bed, and from the state of her breathing... well I guess it sounded more like snoring, she was definitely asleep. 

The room was surprisingly colder than when I had left it this morning. Must be as cold as my heart right now. Even in times of sorrow, I could still crack jokes, morbidly enough.

My mom tried to help me from my chair to the bed but I brushed her off. I was angry with her. she waited twelve days to tell me my father was dead. I had false hope in seeing him for so long. She let me believe he was alright.

I could see her choke back tears as she fled from my room. I didn't care.

"Fuck!" I groaned lifting myself in my bed. Pain flooded my body. Too much pressure on my left arm shot needles through my shoulder. I tried to suppress my whimper, but I failed miserably and I heard the girl stir on the other side of the room. 

I was breathless from the pain. No matter how many deep breaths I tried taking, it didn't seem like enough. Was this a result of the pain, or was I having an anxiety attack from all the stress dumped on me recently? I couldn't tell. Tears were welling up, my heart rate was accelerating, I was going to die. I was sure of it. My heart was going to beat so fast it was going to break, and my body was going to shatter. I don't think I cared though. Death was sounding more and more inviting as the seconds wore on. I would be with my father. I wouldn't be feeling so much pain right now. 

The heart monitor I was hooked up too finally started beeping to alert nurses. I laid back, shutting my eyes tight, the dim light was becoming too much, all the sounds were echoing loudly in my ears, my world was on fire and there was nothing I could do to put it out. I was still trying with all my strength to just catch one single gasp of air. 

"Clarke." 

My name again. But who's voice this time? Surely I would recognize my nurse's voice, she comes in here ever hour on the hour to check on me. But it wasn't her. Who was speaking my name. 

"Clarke, it's okay. It's okay." Whoever was speaking was trying to sooth me. I could tell by the soft whisper. The voice was angelic, maybe I was already dead. 

"Clarke, you're going to be alright." Finally, I drew in a breath and sputtered out a cough. I was panting now, but I opened my eyes and searched the room trying to put a voice to a face. 

 

There she was sitting up on the other bed, worry spread across her face: the most beautiful girl, whose name I didn't even know, staring at me. Those intense green eyes. Immediately I was in a trance. I couldn't look away. 

She smiled lightly as my heart monitor stopped beeping. "Name?" I croaked out, fatigue hitting me. 

"Lexa." 

 

Lexa. Then darkness took me.

 

 


End file.
